Night and Day
by Destiny919
Summary: After his brother was murdered, Mako didn't truck much with daytime. Not until he met the Avatar. AU, Makorra. Credit for the idea goes to mako-symptoms on Tumblr!
1. Chapter 1

Nighttime in Republic City never really felt like night. The glare of the city lights made the sky a dingy yellow-gray that was all Mako had ever known. He'd never seen the clear inky darkness that night was supposed to be. He used to know daylight, to enjoy the strength the sun gave his firebending, the way it made everything in the city sparkle, even when it was covered in grime. But it was hard to live in sunlight ever since his brother died.

Or rather, was murdered.

So the one thing Mako liked about nighttime was that it made the city his hunting ground. And Equalists, the group that had murdered his brother before his own helpless eyes, were his prey.

In the beginning, he'd always gotten chiblocked and just barely evaded capture. But he'd redirected his rage and his grief like lightning, into pure energy, and he focused that energy on becoming better.

He became better than them. He was better than those who'd killed his brother, his best friend, his only family.

And now he could, one by one, make them pay, under cover of a dingy night.

Unfortunately, sparkling days brought to salve to put on his wounds, it left him tired from working, it left him miserable, it left him alone and with no outlet.

And it wasn't like he rested at night.

So it was inevitable that eventually he would be tired and worn out, but he would still have the rage-driven energy in his limbs, and he would go out Equalist-hunting when he shouldn't have.

And it was inevitable that he'd meet her.

He was lying on the ground, all out of bending, all out of the will to get up, facing down an electric glove and a pair of malicious green goggles.

It really should have been silent just then. He was about to die, and yet there continued to be honking Satomobile horns, people going about their late-night business, electricity in the glove crackling. It was so far from silent, and yet it seemed like it had been the second he heard a shout ring out.

"Hey!"

A gigantic white beast leapt onto the scene, knocking aside all three Equalists like they were ragdolls.

"You leave him alone!" A girl, the one shouting, jumped off the side of what he could now identify as a polar bear dog, and started punching flames at the fleeing chiblockers.

She started to chase after them, but then remembered Mako lying on the ground. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, clearly taking him as an innocent bender that had been ambushed, far from a damaged young man doing the ambushing, and failing at it.

"Um," Mako mumbled, picking himself up, "I'm fine." He looked at her directly for the first time, and was confronted with a pair of bright blue eyes that shone even in the horrible artificial light of city. A pair of bright blue eyes, the largest, prettiest ones he'd ever seen, accompanied by coffee-colored skin, dark hair, and some impressive musculature. The girl was also obviously Water Tribe, and yet she was a firebender? "Thanks . . . for saving me, I guess," he said grudgingly. Mako wasn't used to being saved.

"It's my job." She beamed, revealing perfect white teeth.

"Are you a cop?" he asked suspiciously. Mako had many, many reasons not to like or trust the police, not least of which were growing up on the streets, and currently carrying out his own brand of vigilante justice. Well, he thought it was justice.

Most of the time.

"Nope." She grinned even wider. "I'm the Avatar. Avatar Korra, at your service."

Mako blinked. "Um," he said for the second time. "Wow."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, where do you live?" She continued smiling.

_Nowhere_ was the correct answer. He mostly slept in the park when the weather was nice or in the vagabonds' shanty town underground. But that didn't count as living someplace. He didn't know whether to tell her this or lie. For some reason he wasn't quite sure of, he settled on the truth. "I don't live anywhere," he told her.

"You're homeless!" Her eyebrows rose. "Well, then . . . You can live with me!" The words came out in a rush. "On Air Temple Island."

"What." Mako stared at her. Had she really just said that, offered that, to a complete stranger? He asked that very question. "Why would you invite someone you just met to live with you."

Korra seemed just as confused. She continued to look sure of herself for a moment, opening her mouth to reply, but then faltered and looked confused. Her gaze shifted from his face, where it had been glued (just like his on hers), to look down at her feet. He thought there was a blush on her smooth cheeks, but it could have been a trick of the light. "I dunno," she mumbled. "I just. Like you, I guess." She looked back up, and the sparkle had returned to her eyes. "Avatar intuition, I guess!"

"So . . . you're serious? I can go live at the Air Temple?"

She paused for a moment. "Yes," she said firmly, finally. "We've got plenty of room. You can stay in the acolyte's dormitories. There's no reason you should be on the streets."

_Yes there is_, he wants to say to her. _ There's no reason the Avatar should be nice to me_. But Mako, even though he has always hated it, knows when to accept charity. So he nods. "Thank you," he says again.

"No problem." She waves her hand. "Do you have anything to collect – anywhere?"

All Mako has are the clothes on his back and the flames inside him. So he tells her no, he's got everything he needs. Even though he doesn't. His mind can't help but travel back a few months. If only the Avatar had moved to town a little sooner, his brother could be moving in too. A girl like this, with a smile that wide, an attitude this cavalier, would be Bolin's best friend. A girl like this is not one suited to Mako. He can't let himself resent her, though, can't ever compare the date of his brother's death to the date of her arrival in the city, a mere week later. Resentment is useless to him. All he can allow himself is the rage, and the pain, and the numbness. He could be happy, happy that he's received this offer, but happiness isn't on the list. It hasn't been for a while.

It seems like it's probably at the top of hers, though. It was always at the top of Bolin's. He tells her no, he has everything he needs.

Mako was more than reluctant to ride on the gigantic, rather vicious-looking polar bear dog. But then Korra scratched it behind the ears, introducing it – her – as Naga, and her tongue lolled out and she bumped her nose against him. "Good girl," Korra commended. "Naga's my best friend!" she told him.

That struck Mako strangely. Here was this pretty, cheerful girl, the Avatar, and her best friend was a polar bear dog. And yet . . .

"Somehow, that makes perfect sense," he told her. She smiled at him, clearly a little bemused by his answer, and climbed up onto Naga's saddle, then held out a hand to him. He should have hesitated, really, to take her hand. Not only because it meant climbing onto a polar bear dog, but because it meant he trusted her. Mako didn't trust anybody.

But he took her hand.

.

.

Mako had often admired Air Temple Island from afar, when his wanderings around the city after work had taken him to the docks. It looked like a jeweled crown on the near horizon of Yue Bay, like something that belonged in one of those jewelry shop windows Bolin used to stare at when they were young. His face was full of nearly as much longing as when the windows were full of food.

And now, Mako was discovering that the island was just as beautiful up close. Blue, white and gold buildings, all dwarfed by the majestic tower of the main temple. Small piles of pristine white snow lingered in the shade, long after the city's snow had all melted. Lemurs flew overhead, visible only as silhouettes against the sky.

He noticed that the sky was still the same dingy yellow-gray.

Standing happy in the middle of all this, feeding Naga apples, was Korra the Avatar, accompanied by Mako the Street Rat.

And vigilante.

"You're sure this will be okay with Councilman Tenzin?" he asked her for the umpteenth time.

Korra rolled her eyes. Her giant blue eyes. "Of course. Helping people is my job as the Avatar, and he's got to deal with it." She smiled at him. "You do, too. So make yourself at home."

"Taking in homeless people is a regular thing for you, then?"

She blinked those eyes at him. They were getting a little annoying. Distracting him, for some reason. "Um, not really, no," she told him, again seeming slightly bemused.

"Then what's so special about me?" Mako asked her, a different variation on a question he'd asked her multiple times since they met. She kept not giving him a real answer.

Sure enough, Korra avoided his gaze, feeding Naga another apple.

"Korra."

"Korra!"

He was getting angry now. "Maybe I shouldn't be here if you can't answer that question."

She whirled around to face him at that. "I don't know, okay!" she burst out. "It was just – I just got this feeling, like I shouldn't let you keep living on the streets. Not that anyone should," she added quickly. "Look, can we just drop it?" She pouted at him.

The Avatar pouted. At him.

"O . . . okay," he mumbled. He knew he was being stupid. Here he'd had a place to live handed to him on a silver platter and he couldn't just accept it.

Bolin would have been thrilled, best friends with Korra and right at home already.

"I'm sorry, he said softly. "It's just . . . you're the Avatar and I'm an idiot."

Her pout disappeared, and she smiled again, giving Mako the strangest sense of relief. "Both are true," she agreed a little smugly. "I'll introduce you to Tenzin now. Come on, city boy."

He was going to meet the only master airbender in theentire world, son of the legendary Avatar Aang.

But there was a more pressing issue:

_City boy_?!

.

.

Korra walked with her fists clenched at her sides, determinedly not glancing sideways at Mako, walking with her down the hall to Tenzin's study.

What the hell had she been thinking? Inviting a random boy off the streets to live here with her.

She knew there was a huge problem with homeless people in the city, she'd that her first day here when she met Gommu of the beauteous bush. And she'd tried hard to work with the Council on improving things, but between the corruption, the Equalists, and a thousand other problems, nothing had happened. So she could try and pass this off as part of her desperation to help _someone_, to be a good Avatar if only in some small way.

Except that really wasn't it.

Korra just knew, knew in her bones, in her spirit, that taking in Mako was what she should do. She just didn't know why. Tenzin wouldn't likely be swayed by that, so she'd just have to pray Air Nomad mandatory hospitality would prevail.

And then Mako would be a resident of Air Temple Island. Korra realized she barely knew him. She paused, and stretched out a hand to make him stop as well. "So, you're a firebender?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes."

"You don't have any family?"

"I have my brother, Bo –." Mako abruptly stopped talking. "No," he said stiffly. "I don't have any family."

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that made Korra's next question die in her throat. She stared at him, really looking, for the first time.

He was very tall, she noted, and looked strong – firebenders always were, though in a lean way. His spiky, messy hair was dark. He was very handsome, with angular features. His eyes were amber, and they burned brightly in his face with something she couldn't identify.

Homeless or not, Mako was not a happy person, Korra decided.

She'd have to fix that.

.

.

"Okay, so this is it!" Korra said a little awkwardly.

The room was small, neat, with a sleeping mat, chest of drawers, lamp, small bookcase, and a window with a view of Yue Bay and the glowing probending arena. Korra was unnecessarily pointing out all these obvious features when she noticed Mako staring fixedly out the window at the stadium.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she ventured. "I'd love to catch a match sometime."

Mako started to say something, but stopped again. Just like before, some instinct told Korra not to press. So she stared out the window alongside him for a few minutes.

"So, um," she began, "whatcha doing tomorrow?"

"Working," he said shortly. "At the power plant."

"Oh." Korra paused. "You can lightningbend?" she asked suddenly, growing excited.

"Yeah . . ."

"Can you teach me?" she asked eagerly. "None of my firebending teachers ever really tried. Said I lacked the focus." She'd begged and begged. And all she'd ever gotten were a couple of reluctant demonstrations and a short lesson in the theory. "But that was only the classical style! Do you think you could teach me the modern way?"

She'd heard about Avatar Aang feeling certain connections to those who were meant to teach him. Maybe that would explain this . . . whatever it was, that she felt about him. Or it could be, if only Mako, surly and unhappy, would agree to teach her.

"I don't know, Korra," he said reluctantly. "I never taught anyone before, and I'm not a master – !"

"I don't care," she insisted. "I don't need anything fancy, I just want to learn how without it blowing up in my face every time I try. Please?"

Mako found himself unable to say no. "Fine," he grudgingly agreed. "I'll give it a shot, to pay you back for letting me live here."

"Great! When should we start?" Korra asked, thrilled.

"Tomorrow. I finish work at six o'clock."

"Okay." She grinned at him, showing those white teeth again. She started to walk away down the hall, and said, "You're going to be a great teacher, Mako." When she reached the end, she looked back over her shoulder at him. He was watching her walk away.

But when he noticed her looking, he flushed red, and hurried back inside the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Mako never stuck around after their lightningbending "lessons" (though they involved more smoke and shouts of frustration than actually learning), and it was getting on Korra's nerves.

He'd return to the island as the sun was setting, she'd accost him at the steps, and then they'd train for the next few hours. He spent part of the time trying to help her produce even a single spark of electricity, and the rest of the time they'd spar with firebending, which lit up the twilight like dancing dragons.

Korra had discovered, though a few careful questions and Mako's guarded answers, that he'd learned firebending on the streets – he'd gotten very vague here – and had no idea of the classical styles or more advanced techiques besides lightningbending. So she'd declared herself his firebending sifu, and him her lightningbending sifu.

Mako had just grumbled and said he didn't need a sifu and neither did she. Korra said he might not need one, but he had one now.

He always said little. He just let loose those snippets that only whetted her appetite and made her ravenous for more from him.

But she never got any. Every night, when they were done, she invited him to grab a late dinner with her. He refused every time, and always returned to the city for some reason. She watched him hurry away, catch a ferry. Sometimes, she caught him looking back at her, the subtle change in his silhouette just barely visible, and she'd smile and wave.

It made her heart swell to see him wave back.

.

.

One evening, she decided to take a more direct approach.

"Alright, cool guy," she said. (Somewhere along the line, she'd given him multiple nicknames.) "What's do you do in the city every night that's so important?"

Mako nearly choked. "N-nothing," he mumbled.

"If it's nothing, then how come you're always in such a hurry to get to it?" Korra put her hands on her hips.

"I'm not!" he insisted.

"Well, then, stay and grab a snack with me for once." Seeing him about to refuse, she laid a hand on his arm. "C'mon. Please?"

Mako blinked, his eyes flickering from her face to the ground. "Fine," he agreed at last.

Korra smothered her whoop of victory. "Let's go then!" she said cheerily, and gripped his hand in hers, dragging him off in the opposite direction from the buildings.

"Aren't we going to the kitchen?" he asked apprehensively.

"Nope. Someplace better." It was a place she'd discovered soon after her arrival in the city, in the spring. She pulled harder on his hand to make him speed up. His skin was calloused but very warm, and Korra knew she was blushing slightly in spite of herself. She only hoped the dark prevented him from noticing.

Finally, they reached it. There were a lot of trees on Air Temple Island – 10,552, a certain young airbender could have told them – and Korra had dragged him through a thicket of them. Now they had reached a clearing, the grass covered in dew highlighted silver by the moonlight streaming down. Off to one side was a huge apple tree, still laden with fruit despite the lateness in the year. Korra dropped his hand and walked over to it.

She was trying to jump up and grab one of the high-growing apples when she sensed him behind her. He was reaching up over her head, able to reach the fruits with ease. Snagging two, he handed a dusky red one to her with a smirk.

Korra had noticed his height when she first met him. And she knew he was only eighteen, still growing. She was always careful not to allow it to give him any advantage when they sparred.

"Thanks," she muttered, and then recovered her cheer, sitting down on the ground with her back against the thick tree trunk. She patted the spot next to her and after a few seconds' hesitation, he sat.

They crunched on their apples and Korra tried to slow her racing heart.

.

.

They had about fifteen minutes of companionable silence before Korra asked her first question.

"What happened to your family, Mako?"

He knew this was coming sometime. He was only glad she hadn't asked specifically about his brother. He'd slipped up and almost mentioned Bolin so many times. He decided short and to the point would be the best, like always. "They were killed by a firebender when I was eight." He left out the part about his parents owing money to the Triple Threat Triad, the killer being the debt collector, and himself being witness to their deaths.

"Oh," Korra replied in a teeny tiny voice. A little more boldly, she said, "I'm so sorry, Mako." He shrugged his shoulders and tucked his chin into his father's scarf. "A-And your brother?"

Dammit. "He's gone too," Mako said curtly.

"Gone?"

"Dead!" Mako suddenly snapped. "Bolin was murdered, okay! Right in front of me, just like my parents," so much for leaving that part out, "and I couldn't do a damn thing about it!" He was breathing heavily now, hating the pervasive smell of apples that just moments ago had been delicious. He stared up through the tree limbs, chunks of that horrible night sky visible through chinks in the still-thick foliage.

"Mako." She said his name with urgency, and he felt her hand brush his shoulder. "What happened?"

"The Equalists," Mako snarled. "The Equalists happened. Amon, their leader. He caught a bunch of Triad members, and Bolin was taken too, and he _slit my brother's throat_ right in front of me." Mako's fists were clenched around his scarf, the knuckles white. He remember that night in horrid detail.

The two of them had worked for the Triple Threats when they were younger, first to pay off their parents' debt (because their deaths hadn't put money in Lightning Bolt Zolt's pocket), and then to earn money so they could simply survive on the streets. _That_ was how Mako had learned his firebending, and lightningbending, and how to keep fighting even with three stab wounds.

But then Mako had turned sixteen, old enough to get a real job, and they'd left. However, they couldn't always afford food and rent at the same time. So against Mako's explicit orders, Bolin still did work for the triads sometimes. One of those times was about six months before, and Bolin and three others had gotten nabbed by Equalists.

Frantic, Mako had scoured the city, eventually getting wind of a rally being held secretly downtown. He'd gone, and watched as his brother and the Triad members had their bending taken from them onstage. He'd snuck around back to try and find Bolin afterwards, and seen him in Amon's grip, having his throat cut, rivulets of scarlet blood giving Bolin a scarf of his own. Mako had been caught, barely escaped with his bending, and his life, and afterwards wasn't quite sure he was glad he had.

Since then, Mako had lived on the streets, still working, but now he was alone. Now an artificially-lit night was his companion, his hunting partner, as he searched the streets for Equalist prey and some retribution.

That was what he did at night instead of hanging out with Korra. But tonight, he hadn't. He couldn't refuse her anymore, couldn't squash the hope that welled in her blue eyes, the color of the sky on a cloudless day.

Mako and Korra were both silent.

Finally, Korra spoke. "Thank you for telling me."

He closed his eyes, rather than meet hers. He wasn't ready to face the day yet.

.

.

And yet that was exactly what happened when he opened them again.

It was morning. Korra was leaning on him fully, her sleeping head on his shoulder. He was frozen for just half a second, but that was long enough for Korra's eyes to flutter open.

"Gah!" As soon as she realized their position, she scrambled away, stammering and blushing.

Wait. Blushing?

Before either could recover from their awkward wakeup call, a shout tore apart the morning tranquility. "KORRA!"

"Shit, what time is it?" Korra muttered. "I had airbending training at seven . . ." And she took off running, but not before she turned around for a moment and said, "See you later, okay?" Mako found himself nodding, and she left with a smile.

It was still warm where her body had touched his.

.

.

It became an almost nightly occurrence, and Mako had no idea how. They'd finish sparring, she'd cajole, and they'd go eat apples. And as it happened more and more often, it would much less cajoling, and then none at all, and they'd stay sitting under the tree, talking quietly, long after their apples were eaten. Korra told him about growing up in the South Pole and the compound. Mako never said much or volunteered information. But he listened with rapt attention despite himself. The way Korra talked was mesmerizing. She talked with her hands, gesturing unconsciously. He occasionally cut in with a bit of sarcasm, and she'd punch him lightly on the arm before continuing.

They never fell asleep together again, but once Korra did, nodding off and within a few minutes nestling against his side. He was glued in place, couldn't bring himself to move and risk waking her. She looked so different in her sleep, her features smoothed out, no pout or exaggerated scowl or wide sunny smile.

A strand of hair fell in her face, and without even thinking about it he reached over and brushed it away. And then he realized what he was doing, and snatched his hand back.

This was bad.

After Bolin was killed, Mako swore to himself he wouldn't get close to anyone like that again, just so they could be ripped away from him. And yet here he was, betraying his own promise in the most thorough way possible. Korra was the Avatar, and her position made her an ephemeral presence in his life.

So, reluctantly, he moved away from Korra, and shook her shoulder to wake her. "Mm?" she moaned sleepily, her eyes just barely opening.

"You fell asleep," he said softly.

"Oh, sorry." She moved away and stood up. He did the same. "'Night." She walked away, slow with tiredness. He couldn't help watching her go.

This was very bad.

On another night, with cold weather encroaching, Korra began to shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself but didn't say a word, didn't suggest they go indoors or move closer to him to share warmth. She was tough, she didn't ask for help.

He knew how that was.

Without another thought, Mako undid his scarf from around his neck, and draped it over Korra's shoulders before she could protest.

"Thanks," she muttered. He nodded, feeling his heart clench at the sight of her, of anyone, wearing his scarf.

But he could still appreciate how pretty she looked in red.

.

.

The next morning came a change in routine.

"Hey," Korra said when she saw him in the morning. "Wanna do something? It's your day off, isn't it?"

How did she know? "Yeah. Like what?" he asked guardedly.

"Maybe you could show me around the city? I mean, I've seen it, but you grew up here! I bet you could show me a ton of cool places!"

Truthfully, Mako knew few of the kind she'd like. He was familiar with shady alleyways, a couple of bars that didn't card, and the police station. Bolin would have shown her the best joints in town.

"I dunno," he grunted. "I don't think it'd be that interesting for you."

"Of course it would be!" She looked like there was more she wanted to add, but all she said was, "Please?"

And like before, he couldn't refuse her. So he nodded his assent.

"Yes!" she cheered. "Come on, we can take Naga."

He followed her over to the training grounds, where Naga was surrounded by the three airbending children Mako had seen but not met.

"Hey, kids!" Korra hollered over their laughter. All three came over to them with a large gust of wind. The younger girl with her hair in two odango began talking immediately:

"Hi my name is Ikki what's yours? Are you the handsome firebender boy who drives her crazy that lives here? Are you going to be Korra's boyfriend? Do you like her? Did she really rescue you from Equalists? Did you really live on the street? Was it fun? I think it'd be fun to live on the street you could see all the people and not have a bedtime and you wouldn't have to eat vegetables!" The little girl, Ikki, wasn't even breathing hard. Did she breathe at all?

"Um. I'm Mako," he said.

"You're tall," the bald boy said. "I'm Meelo! RAWR!" Meelo started running around in a circle.

"Hello, Mako. I'm Jinora," the elder girl greeted him calmly. "He _is _handsome," she stage-whispered to Korra.

Korra blushed scarlet and quickly used earthbending to make the kids fly up into the air, and land lightly far away, with smirks visible on their young faces. She turned to him, still blushed. "Um, I –," she began.

"Don't worry about it," he told her simply. They were just kids. Surely she hadn't really talked about him, much less called him handsome.

Had she?

"O-Okay." She climbed up on Naga, and once again offered her hand, asking him to trust her.

He took her hand.

.

.

For a while they just wandered the street on Naga. Korra asked questions, and despite what he'd said to her, he could answer every single one. And through his answers, she could piece together bits of growing up with his brother.

She thought about what she'd said earlier, about if it would be interesting. "Of course it would be!" She'd left off a crucial point. It would be interesting because she'd be with him.

Suddenly an intoxicatingly familiar scent filled Korra's nostrils. And she tugged Naga's reins, making the polar bear dog go pounding down the street in search of the smell. When they reached the source, it was coming from a small restaurant called Narook's Seaweed Noodlery. "Hey!" Korra exclaimed. "Water Tribe grub!" She turned to Mako and was about to ask if he was hungry, when she noticed the expression on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

"I – this – it," Mako stuttered. "It was my brother's favorite restaurant. We came here all the time."

Without another word, Korra gave the reins another yank and they took off down the street. Neither of them spoke until they were many blocks away. And then Mako mumbled a low, "Thank you."

"No problem, city boy," she said in a business-like tone. Because if she tried to sound any other way, her voice would break.

The look on his face back there was unlike any she'd ever seen on him. His face when he told her about Bolin's death had held a fury so solid and implacable it was like running into a brick wall. But when he saw Narook's, he just looked like a bereft little boy, with no barrier to mask the pain in his eyes. And for some reason, his pain was her pain. So on both their behalfs, she turned tail and ran.

They returned to Air Temple Island, and without stopping, Korra steered Naga straight to the apple tree that had scarcely any fruit left on it. Korra felt like something bad would happen when the increasingly cold weather finally touched that tree.

She made him sit down under the tree, and then stood there awkwardly trying to figure out how to reach the high-growing apples.

And suddenly she was rising off the ground. Mako was behind her, lifting her into the air like it was nothing. "W-What are you doing?" she spluttered.

"Neither of us can reach alone," he grumbled. "So if you want something to eat, don't complain, and pick us some lunch."

Scarlet-faced and flustered, Korra complied, intensely aware of his hands on her waist. Once she'd plucked a few good ones, he gently lowered her down and quickly removed his hands.

They both sat, though neither touched their apples. Korra looked at him – brow furrowed, jaw set, hand playing with his scarf. She'd noticed he touched his scarf or buried his nose in it when he was upset. She'd have to ask him about that sometime. Now was not then, she knew. "Mako," she said softly, "it's okay."

"No, it's not," he snapped suddenly. "Since I was eight all I had was my brother. And now I've got nothing."

Impulsively, Korra reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "You've got me," she said firmly.

Mako stared into Korra's blue eyes, the color of a perfect daytime sky, alight with determination and a solemn promise. And then he looked down at their hands, and noted that they fit together perfectly.

.

.

"So the Avatar has befriended our little vigilante," Amon mused.

"Yes, sir," said his Lieutenant. "What should we do?"

"We've found a weakness. Exploit it." From behind his mask, Amon surveyed the city that would soon be his.


End file.
